


Saying Thank You

by silentid



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 10:17:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5123897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentid/pseuds/silentid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in some sort of Mystery Trio AU, Fiddleford comes home from a long weekend and Stanley and Stanford need some taking care of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saying Thank You

“Ford… Ford… Ford you’ve got to take a break, Stan says he’s barely seen you all weekend.”

Ford lifted his head from the stack of papers on his desk, the words slowly piercing through the haze that his work addled brain had fallen into. 

“M still busy, Stanley. Can’t you just leave me alone till Fidds gets home?” He said attempting to reassure his brother and get back to work

“Afraid not, darlin’” Fiddleford grinned slightly, and ran his hand through the other man’s hair. 

“Fidds!” Stanford exclaimed, eyes shooting open and back straightening, before relaxing into the soothing petting of his scalp. “How long have you been back? Why are you back? I thought your trip with Tate was going to last until Sunday?”

“It is Sunday, Ford. I’ve been home for a few hours, and spent them with your brother. He was lonely because someone has been holed up down here since I left on Friday, according to him at least.”

“Huh, I made coffee at some point. Pretty sure I talked with Stan then, although I guess he could have just been asleep on the couch. He didn't have much to say.”

“Ford we’ve talked about this,” Fiddleford scolded. He removed his hand from Ford’s head with a sigh and pulled the shorter man upright. “You’ve got to start taking breaks from all this work, it’s not good for you. C’mon upstairs, Stan has some dinner prepared and then you’re going to let me take care of the two of you.”

Ford grumbled, with little feeling, while allowing the taller man to support him to the elevator and up into the house above. 

When the elevator doors opened to let them out onto the main floor, both men were hit with a delicious aroma and Ford’s stomach gave an audible rumble. Fiddleford passed Ford off to Stanley, who fussed over his brother while getting him seated at the table with a plate of food in front of him.

“Geez, Poindexter, have you ever considered listenin’ to your body for once? That rumbly sound means it’s empty.”

Ford’s response to Stan’s jab was lost to the large forkful of pasta Stan shoved in Ford’s mouth before he was even fully seated. Fiddleford grinned at the boys’ antics as he followed them into the kitchen. He placed a quick kiss on Stan’s cheek as the other man made up plates for both of them, and ran his hand through Ford’s hair again on the way to his seat. 

“Thank you for making dinner, Stanley. It smells great.” Fiddleford grinned at the slight blush that had crept up Stan’s ears from the kiss as well as the compliment. 

"I’m guessing it tastes alright too, since Ford hasn’t actually stopped to breathe.” Stan said setting plates for himself and Fiddleford on the table. "Yeesh Sixer, and I thought Fiddlenerd was supposed to be the one raised in a barn." 

Stan cackled at Fiddleford's indignant yelp and his brother's rude gesture. The rest of the meal was spent swapping stories from the weekend and came to an end with the twins briefly arguing over who got the last serving. 

"Come on Ford, you had twice as much as Fidds and I had."

"But Stanleeeey."

"Alright, alright, fine it’s all yours." Stan said, giving in without much fight. He was just glad to see his brother eating after having seen neither hide nor hair of him the whole weekend.

"You would be skin and bones without me, Nerd. Can't imagine how you made it through college." He mused, as he grabbed the now empty pot from his brother's hand and started clearing the table. 

Fiddleford laughed again at the two's antics, in full agreeance with Stan. If he hadn't actually been in college with Stanford, he too wouldn't believe the guy could survive on his own. However since he had been there he knew that sometimes it was him dragging Ford to the dining hall that was the only thing keeping him from starving.

"When you’re done with that, I think it’s time for you to take a shower and then bed." Fiddleford said to Ford, as he helped Stanley clear the table. 

Ford started to complain, he had too much work to take such a long break, before catching the other men's expression and paused to actually get a whiff of himself. Oh lord, how long had it been since he last showered, or washed these clothes, or changed these clothes for that matter.

"Ugh, geez, I guess a shower wouldn't be amiss. Especially if, uh, you, maybe, wanted to join me Fidds? And then maybe we could, uhm, all do something after? Before bed?" Ford said in a rush.

"I think that's a magnificent idea, Stanford. If it’s alright with Stanley that we're leaving him with the dishes, he did cook."

"That's fine by me," Stanley grunted from the sink, "neither of you smell like roses."

"Thank you, Stanley," Fiddleford said, catching the other man in a heated kiss, "you're such a good boy. We'll see you in a little bit."

Fiddleford grinned as he sauntered away from the sink, caught Ford's hand on the way by, and headed upstairs with the older brother. 

Stan let out a small groan and released the edge of the sink where his fingers had gripped it from the intensity of Fiddleford's kiss. He had no idea how his brother had convinced the older man to become involved with Ford let alone Stan, but he was pretty sure the Southerner was going to be the death of him. 

Stan hummed as he washed up, and listened to the shower with one ear. Mostly marveling at his good luck that he not only have a roof over his head, but that his relationship with his brother was on the mend, and his brother's lover had accepted him not only into their home but into their bed. The twins relationship had always been close, to close by societies standards. But the boys had had an isolated childhood and it had made sense to them to share the important things with the person who mattered most.

When they got into high school things had cooled off between the two of them as they both tried to fit the role their parents and society wanted for them. This meant awkward and in some cases complete disasters of dates for the both of them. But through it all they had each other’s backs, one or the other of them coming home after another strike out to curl up in bed with the person who knew them better than any girl could. Or on the occasions something went right coming home to regale their twin with stories and demonstrations of muggers defeated and kisses placed just so on cheeks. Then of course Stan had lost everything because of one stupid mistake. 

The next handful of years were spent on the streets, running cons and just generally running. One of those cons Stan couldn't out run and he had ended up hurt badly enough that a good Samaritan had taken him to the local hospital in Somewhereville, Oregon. The hospital ended up being one that Stanford had visited on a monster hunt gone wrong. The hospital contacted Ford's emergency contact, Fiddleford, who rushed out to the hospital since Ford was actually supposed to be on a monster hunt not far from there that weekend. Ford had been in for quite the surprise and explanation when he came home to find his partner nursing his hurt twin brother.

Between Ford's concern for his brother's health and Fiddleford mediating their more violent arguments they were actually able to make some progress working through their issues. As Stan got better, he started doing odd jobs and chores around the house mostly to keep from going stir crazy from the bed rest. The original occupants quickly realized the benefits of having someone around the house who didn't become distracted for multiple days on end, enjoyed the occasional fight with a supernatural creature, and regularly remembered to sleep. And when Stan was fully better and the less acceptable nature of the twins relationship had come to light, Ford had happily allowed Fiddleford to talk him into allowing Stan to stay in a more permanent capacity. 

The sound of a door closing and footsteps coming down the stairs snapped Stan out of his musing. He quickly finished up the last of the dishes and was just setting them to dry when Fiddleford's arms wrapped around him from behind. 

"Are you still feeling up to helping me with a little something for your brother, Stanley? I've got him already upstairs, he won’t be going anywhere for a while." The older man hummed into the back of Stan's neck.  
Stan shivered at the warm breath and how Fiddleford's hands petted lightly over his stomach. These were some of his favorite nights he loved taking care of his lovers, which is why he rarely begrudged making dinner, and he particularly enjoyed when one of them took over allowing him to follow their lead and know he was making them feel good. He nodded sharply not trusting what would come out of his mouth.  
"Hmmm that's my good boy, okay when your done down here I want you to come up to our bedroom and strip. Be sure to fold your clothes, you know how your brother is about that." Fiddleford punctuated his last sentence with a sharp nip to Stan's neck for before heading back upstairs. 

Stan messed around with the dishes for a moment longer, to make it seem like he wasn’t completely desperate, before following Fiddleford up the stairs, down the hall, and to their bedroom. There he paused briefly at the closed door, to catch his breath, and gently pushed it open. He could just make out the figures of his lovers on the bed in the dimly lit room. Slowly he began to strip, following Fiddleford’s directions from early, and being sure to make it something of a show for the hungry eyes that watched him. 

“Oh Ford, I wish you could see your brother right now,” Fiddleford said breathlessly, stroking his hand through Ford’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. Ford lay naked between Fiddleford’s legs, arms bound across his chest, legs tied splayed to either bedpost, his erection was curled towards his belly, and a blind fold was secured across his eyes. Ford moaned at the contact, pushing his head back into Fiddleford’s hand. 

“Please Fidds, tell me.”

Stan felt heat creep up his neck as Fiddleford did just that, describing each of his actions to his brother. Fiddleford spent a lengthy time on each description, adding loving compliments about each part of Stanley that was exposed. Meanwhile, Stan drank in the sight of his brother immobilized on the bed, he knew Ford loved this kind of thing. The nerd spent so much time in his big brain, barely paying attention to his body, that being tied up helped him focus on the now. Unable to move Ford was forced to become fully aware of his body and his lovers’ ministrations. 

Stan let out a slight whine at the thought of getting to touch his brother all laid out like that. As he folded the last of his clothes his gaze locked onto Fiddleford’s face knowing that the older man was calling the shots this evening. A smirk tugged at the side of Fiddleford’s mouth at Stan’s noise and hungry look. Unable to help teasing Stan a little, he leaned down and caught Ford’s lips in a heated kiss, hands trailing down Ford’s chest.

“What do you think Ford? Do you want your brother to come over here and make you feel good?” Fiddleford asked breaking the kiss, and letting his eyes trail over Stanley’s now quivering body and hardening cock. 

“Yesss, please Fidds…”

“It’s not me you gotta ask, sweetheart.”

“P.. Please, Lee, wanna feel good…. Want you….”

Like a shot, Stan was at the side of the bed, eyes once again locked on Fiddleford. Fiddleford nodded, gesturing for Stan to climb onto the bed. “You’re a good boy, Stanley, you know what to do. Make your brother feel good.” 

Stan settled at the foot of the bed, briefly trailing one of his large, warm hands along Fiddleford’s ankle and calf where it rested next to his brother’s thigh. He moved his hand to his brother’s leg, slowly working his way up one then the other worshiping them with hands and mouth. Fiddleford continued to pet at Ford’s hair and upper body, occasionally twisting sharply at Ford’s nipples in time with a sharp nip from Stan. Ford writhed and mewled under the treatment, unable to move much from the bonds, alternating gasping Fiddleford and his brother’s names. 

When Stan made it to his brother’s hip for a second time, he glanced back to Fiddleford, his warm breathe ghosting over his brother’s dripping cock.

“Uhhh… Stanley, I wish I had a camera right now. What a picture you make, doing such a good job to make you brother that hard.” Fiddleford gasped, drinking in the sight of the twins laid out before him. One bond and desperate. The other just as desperate and waiting on Fiddleford’s word to do what both of them wanted and suck his brother’s cock. Reaching down he gripped Stan’s chin and pulled him up over his brother for a kiss. Fiddleford deepened the kiss, Stan’s mouth parted, giving Fiddleford’s tongue access to explore. They spent a couple of moments just kissing, punctuated by an occasional whimper from one of the brothers when their cocks were accidently brushed by the other. Something that was unavoidable in their current positions. Catching his breath as he broke the kiss, Fiddleford pushed Stan back down towards Ford’s cock. 

“Okay Stanley on my count,” Fiddleford said, holding two fingers up, waiting briefly for Stan’s nod of understanding, “Five… Four… Three… **Two** …”

On two Stan quickly went down on his brother and Fiddleford tugged the blind fold free. Ford primed and still waiting for the final number, struggled with the brief overload of both the sight and feeling of his cock in his brother’s mouth. He moaned at the sensations and managed to get some small movement from his hips before Stan’s large hands stilled them at Fiddleford’s command. 

"guuh, fuc... Lee, please... Fidds, please I need'ta..."

Fiddleford chuckled, his hands running soothingly over Ford's quivering sides, "So soon, darlin'? We don't want to cheat your brother of his fun. Look how hard he's workin' to make you feeling this good, hmm. Do you think he knows what a good boy he is?" 

The twins both moaned at this, Stan's moan muffled by his brother's erection. The vibrations this caused also drew a stuttering whine from Ford's lips. 

"Please," Ford panted.

"Please what, darlin'? You're gonna have to be more specific. Why don't you tell your brother what you want and whether or not he's doing a good job?"

"Lee.... Lee, gah feels so good, Lee. Doin' so good, don't stop, please. Please I need to... Lee!"

This continued for a short with Ford’s babbling becoming less and less coherent before he came with a hoarse shout. Stan sucked his brother's cum down greedily humming his way through the process. Fiddleford hummed his approval having begun indiscriminately praising the twins not long after Ford started babbling. As Stan pulled off his brother's cock, Fiddleford reached down to pull him in for another kiss. Licking the taste Stanford's from Stanley's mouth, while Ford lay limp between the two, watching them with half lidded eyes. Fiddleford released Ford’s arms, running his hands up and down them to help with any pins and needles. He laced the fingers of his right hand with Ford’s right hand, marveling, as all ways, at how large the extra digit made Ford’s hands. 

“I think your brother deserves a thank you for doing such a good job, don’t you think Ford?” Guiding their interlocked hands to Stanley’s cock, and wrapping them around it. Stanley let out a short whine at the contact to his aching erection, and his hips stuttered. 

“No Stan, you’ve done enough already tonight. This is supposed to be a thank you, Ford should be doing the work.” 

Fiddleford almost laughed at the blush that was spreading across Ford’s cheek at their actions, but he mostly felt fondness for the man who could somehow still be embarrassed by giving his brother a hand job while laying limp in Fiddleford’s lap from his own orgasm. As Ford’s movements became more confident, Fiddleford let his hand begin to trail lazily along Stan’s stomach and chest. Mostly light teasing touches and petting with a few sharper tugs or pinches on Stan’s chest hair and nipples. His left hand was resting on Ford’s head, occasionally gently petting or scratching through Ford’s hair. Stan loomed over the two of them, on his hands and knees, breathing getting more and more ragged under his brother’s ministrations. It was taking most of his concentration to keep his body still, so he barely noticed the mixture of his lover’s names and moans that were falling from his lips. As Stan closed in on climaxing, his arms gave out and he slumped forward resting his head on Ford’s shoulder. 

“He seems close, Ford. I think you should tell him what a good job he did tonight, tell your brother thank you, Stanford.”

“Oh god, Stanley you’re so good.” Ford gasped his free hand threading through Stan’s hair. “Th thank you, Lee.”

At this Stan’s hips stuttered again, and he came with a noise mostly muffled by his brother’s shoulder. Cum splattered all over Ford’s stomach and chest. Stan slumped to one side of his brother to avoid the mess and curled up against Ford’s side, boneless and content from his orgasm. Fiddleford slipped out from behind Ford, stretching his legs and giving them a chance to get over their own pins and needles, before carefully undoing the restraints on Ford’s legs. He then slipped out of the bedroom and down the hall, bring water and a damp cloth back to clean up their mess. 

When he returned Ford had used his freedom to curl up, almost protectively around Stanley, one hand still combing gently through his brother's hair. Fiddleford handed Ford one of the bottles of water he had brought back and lightly cleaned Ford with the cloth. Ford opened the bottle, took a quick sip from it, and then offered it to his brother. 

Stan eyed the bottle sleepily before saying, “Have you had any, Sixer?”

“Of course, Lee. Now drink up, you need it as much as I do.” Ford replied with a fond exasperation. 

Fiddleford chuckled as he tossed the now dirty rag aside, left the other water bottle beside the bed for later, and pulled the covers over the twins. He slid under the covers as well, and joined Ford and Stan’s sleepy cuddle. 

Ford rolled over slightly, so that his brother was still curled snuggly against his side but so that Fiddleford could get comfortable on his other side. Briefly pausing the pass and sip game Stan had started with the water bottle to thank Fiddleford.

"That was exactly what I need Fidds, thanks. Stan you too, thank you, both of you. I guess I had kind of gotten caught up in my work.” Ford admitted, a little sheepishly. “Fidds, you didn’t come, do you want us to take care of you?”

“That’s all right, Stanford. Between the shower and what Stan and I got up to before dinner, I came plenty tonight. I appreciate the thought though.” Fiddleford said, finding a comfortable position in the mess of limbs that filled the bed. He was feeling pretty sated and content, a mixture of the early orgasms and helping his boys get what they needed. 

“Well I for one think we’ll have to make up for you missing out sometime soon.” Ford stated.

“Yeah, like maybe in the morning.”

Fiddleford cracked one of his closed eyes and caught the leer Stan had managed to throw over his brother’s chest. He was also demonstrating just what he thought these morning activities might entail with the mouth of the empty water bottle.

“That’s a good idea, Stanley. We could do something nice for you tomorrow morning. Huh, how does breakfast in bed sound, Fidds?”

This time Fiddleford couldn’t contain his laughter, as Stan let out a lengthy groan and flicked the water bottle at his brother. Then slumped into Ford's side, hiding his own grin. Ford’s face fell at the other two’s reactions, a look of genuine confusion overtaking his features. 

“What? What’s wrong with breakfast in bed?” He asked, poking at his brother with the empty bottle.

“Nothing, Stanford, nothing it’s a lovely idea and I’m really looking forward to it.” Fiddleford reassured him, squeezing Ford’s hand closest to him. “Stan may just have had other, less wholesome ideas on how you might show your appreciation.” 

“Oh, ohhhhh. Honestly, Stan, is that all you think about?” Ford spluttered as understanding dawned on him. 

“Geez Sixer, and they call me the dumb one.” Stan said, head popping up to give Ford a quick peck on the lips to take the sting out of his comment.

All three chuckled, each shifting until they were comfortable, and then one by one dropped off to sleep.


End file.
